“Tis quite true. If I had gone for love o' you, if I had ever sincerely loved you, if I loved you still, I should not so loathe and hate myself for my weakness as I do now! ... My eyes were dazed by you for a little, and that was all.”

“My eyes were dazed by you for a little, and that was all.”

“Ah, are you digging on my grave,My loved one? -- planting rue?"-- "No: yesterday he went to wedOne of the brightest wealth has bred.'It cannot hurt her now,' he said,'That I should not be true.'""Then who is digging on my grave,My nearest dearest kin?"-- "Ah, no: they sit and think, 'What use!What good will planting flowers produce?No tendance of her mound can looseHer spirit from Death's gin.'""But someone digs upon my grave?My enemy? -- prodding sly?"-- "Nay: when she heard you had passed the GateThat shuts on all flesh soon or late,She thought you no more worth her hate,And cares not where you lie."Then, who is digging on my grave?Say -- since I have not guessed!"-- "O it is I, my mistress dear,Your little dog, who still lives near,And much I hope my movements hereHave not disturbed your rest?""Ah yes! You dig upon my grave...Why flashed it not to meThat one true heart was left behind!What feeling do we ever findTo equal among human kindA dog's fidelity!""Mistress, I dug upon your graveTo bury a bone, in caseI should be hungry near this spotWhen passing on my daily trot.I am sorry, but I quite forgotIt was your resting place.”

“...Nameless, unknown to me as you were, I couldn't forget your voice!''For how long?''O - ever so long. Days and days.''Days and days! Only days and days? O, the heart of a man! Days and days!''But, my dear madam, I had not known you more than a day or two. It was not a full-blown love - it was the merest bud - red, fresh, vivid, but small. It was a colossal passion in embryo. It never returned.”

“At first I did not love you, Jude; that I own. When I first knew you I merely wanted you to love me. I did not exactly flirt with you; but that inborn craving which undermines some women's morals almost more than unbridled passion--the craving to attract and captivate, regardless of the injury it may do the man--was in me; and when I found I had caught you, I was frightened. And then--I don't know how it was-- I couldn't bear to let you go--possibly to Arabella again--and so I got to love you, Jude. But you see, however fondly it ended, it began in the selfish and cruel wish to make your heart ache for me without letting mine ache for you.”

“It takes two or three generations to do what I tried to do in one; and my impulses--affections--vices perhaps they should be called-- were too strong not to hamper a man without advantages; who should be as cold-blooded as a fish and as selfish as a pig to have a really good chance of being one of his country's worthies. You may ridicule me--I am quite willing that you should-- I am a fit subject, no doubt. But I think if you knew what I have gone through these last few years you would rather pity me. And if they knew"--he nodded towards the college at which the dons were severally arriving--"it is just possible they would do the same.”

“Clare could bear this no longer. His eyes were full of tears, which seemed like drops of molten lead. He bade a quick good-night to these sincere and simple souls whom he loved so well; who knew neither the world, the flesh, or the devil in their own hearts; only as something vague and external to themselves. He went to his own chamber.His mother followed him, and tapped at his door. Clare opened it to discover her standing without, with anxious eyes. "Angel," she asked, "is there something wrong that you must go away so soon? I am quite certain you are not yourself.""I am not, quite, mother," said he."About her? Now, my son, I know it is that--I know it is about her! Have you quarreled in these three weeks?""We have not exactly quarreled," he said. "But we have had a difference--""Angel--is she a young woman whose history will bear investigation?"With a mother's instinct Mrs. Clare had put her finger on the kind of trouble that would cause such a disquiet as seemed to agitate her son. "She is spotless!" he replied; and he felt that if it had sent him to eternal hell there and then he would have told that lie. ”